


Three Points Where Two Lines Meet

by tinyfierce



Series: Tessellate [2]
Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Drabble Collection, Fluff and Smut, Multi, Nonmonogamous Relationship, Prompt Fic, Prompt Fill, Romance, Slow Build, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-05
Updated: 2018-04-05
Packaged: 2019-04-18 21:16:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14221956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinyfierce/pseuds/tinyfierce
Summary: A collection of oneshots/drabbles/prompts, updated as filled. All revolving around the Ryder x Jaal x Evfra triangle and their relationships with one another within it. Fluff, smut, angst, you name it - it goes here. Will change rating as necessary.I often announce when prompts are open on Tumblr - head over there if you want to keep an eye out!





	1. Sleeping Arrangements

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **  
> _Anonymous asked:_  
>  **  
>  _For Jaal/Ryder/Evfra, sleeping arrangements?_
> 
>  
> 
> Very slight nsfw warning.

“You’re not sleeping on the sofa.”

Evfra glared, though it was hard for Ryder to take him seriously when he was staring her down with an oversized throw pillow tucked under his arm.

“This is your ship, not your apartment,” he argued. “A different order applies.”

“My ship, my rules,” she countered. “And at this point, no one on my crew is going to be scandalized by me sleeping with an Angara.” When he hesitated, she continued. “Unless you actively want space, in which case I will absolutely respect that.”

“No,” he said slowly. “I don’t.”

“Okay, then spell it out.”

After a moment, he gestured to the bed. “This is the space that you and Jaal share. Have shared. Our arrangement is new, and I’m still not -”

_Still not sure._

Ryder’s expression softened, and she sat down on the edge of the mattress. “Well, I enjoy sleeping together, the three of us. But I get it, and we can check in with Jaal if that will set you more at ease.”

He was about to reply when the door  _whooshed_  open and shut, Jaal strolling in fresh from the showers as he toweled himself off. “Evfra,” he greeted as he walked past. “Have you decided which side of the bed you would like?”

Ryder made deliberate eye contact with Evfra and bit back a grin.

“The left,” he finally conceded. “Away from the door.”

“Ah, I understand. Of course.”

“And you’re in the middle again,” Ryder prompted, pulling her knees beneath her.

A light flush darkened the base of Jaal’s neck, and he draped the towel over the back of her chair. “If you don’t mind,  _taoshay_.”

“Not at all.” She watched as Evfra adjusted the pillow to accommodate where his knees would fall on the human mattress. “I know how you like to feel snug.”

Evfra smirked at that, and Ryder distinctly remembered the time she’d used the phrase  _cuddle whore_  to describe Jaal’s sleeping preferences.   
  
“Unless,” she said to the commander, leaning over, “you want to fight him for it?”

He snorted. “No.”

* * *

Moments later, the cabin was enveloped in darkness, the bed’s occupants having settled into their preferred positions and various forms of comfort. 

“Sleep well,” Jaal offered drowsily, and Ryder sank onto her side.  
  
“You too.”   
  
Affectionately, she let her upper hand trace the path of his shoulder, earning a hum of approval at the contact. Evfra’s arm was thrown lazily over Jaal’s hip, and she continued the motion from Jaal’s ribs down, across to Evfra’s skin until she reached his hand. He caught hers with a firm squeeze, and she smiled.

Then, after a moment, she squeezed back - with a little jolt of mock bioelectricity through her fingertips. Evfra’s hand twitched, shifting slightly to accommodate the lingering touch and strokes she trailed along his palm, but he made no acknowledgment…

…until she slowly and deliberately lifted his hand to her mouth, sucking at his fingertips before delivering a gentle-but-firm bite.

Evfra’s chuckle reverberated through the mattress, and he cracked one electric blue eye open to catch her smirk. He shifted closer, one hand snaking beneath Jaal to pull his backside tight against his hips, the other hand having moved beneath Ryder’s nightshirt in search of her breasts.

Jaal moaned, brought back from the edge of sleep by Evfra’s arousal and Ryder’s mouth on the curve of his throat. He ground himself against her thigh, sighing into them both.

“If we were going to do this,” he muttered with a smile, “why does it matter which side we choose?”

“It doesn’t,” Ryder snickered as someone’s hand palmed her ass, “it never does.”


	2. Orphans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _**Natsora asked:** Angst: Ryder visits Jaal's family, Mourns her parents' death and her brother's still in a coma. Evfra comforts by opening up about his own losses._

Ryder raised an eyebrow, but allowed herself to be led through the Resistance headquarters. She wasn’t as familiar with the layout as Jaal was, naturally, but she could’ve sworn that they were heading in entirely the wrong direction.

“The training arena? My meeting with Evfra is in his office.”

“I know. We’re taking a detour.” He smiled at her over his shoulder. “I promise you, you won’t be late. This should only take a moment.”

As the doors opened in front of them, Ryder took in her surroundings. She’d never seen it in active use before - she hadn’t exactly been invited to train with them, either - but there were sparring bouts in action with instructors and referees supervising. The quartermaster seemed to be holding some sort of workshop, and any other recruits were either spectating or -

“Jaal!”

\- running up to greet them.

Two unfamiliar Angara quickly crossed the room at the sight of her companion, who chuckled warmly and outstretched his arms.

“It has been so long -”

“Have you come to spar? Please tell me you’re here to embarrass Instructor Alef, he’s been insufferable lately and -”

“Have you been back to Havarl? How’s my mother? And -”

“It is good to see you,” he said, interrupting their stream of chatter. “I am glad to talk, but first, there is someone I would like you to meet.”

He stepped aside, and Ryder suddenly felt a bit unnerved as their eyes turned to study her carefully. She briefly wondered if she was the first human they had seen, or what they had heard of the outsiders so far.

“This,” he began proudly, “is the human Pathfinder, Ryder.” He gestured to each of the Angara in turn, the more peach-mauve of the pair first. “Ryder, these are my cousins, Veran and Raai.”

_Oh._

Straightening, Ryder put on a warm smile and nudged him with her shoulder. “Cousins in the resistance too, huh? Jaal, is your  _whole family_  full of badasses?”

Pleased, he ducked his head and opened his mouth to reply, but their excitement was now directed at their newest target.

“ _The_ Pathfinder? But you’re so  _small_  -”

“We’ve heard so much about you. Is it true that you singlehandedly disabled a whole ship full of Kett?”  
  
“You brought back the Moshae! She talks about you, you know.”

“Has Jaal told you about us? What is he like on your team?”

“Can you eat the food here? What about the drinks? Jaal, you should bring her by… for…”  
  
Their eyes traveled past her as both fell silent, and Ryder knew who must be standing there without having to turn.

“Shouldn’t you be practicing,” Evfra only half-asked, arms crossed.

With a smile, Jaal ushered them back toward the arena. “You can talk later,” he promised them, “but for now, show me what you’ve learned.” Ryder waved, glad for the interruption, but entertained by the dynamic she’d witnessed.

Evfra watched them go with a frown. “I thought this might happen,” he said as soon as they were out of earshot.

“Well, thank you for the rescue, then.” Ryder leaned back against the wall, Evfra following suit. “They seem… enthusiastic.”

“They all are, that lot.”

“His family must be huge, the way he talks about it. This is the first time I’ve met any of them.” She folded her arms and tilted her head in thought. “I’m envious, to be honest.”

He snorted. “Humans don’t have families?”

“Not that big, and mine is dead.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, she bit her tongue.  _Ah, shit._  That had been too defensive, too raw. She needed to keep that in check.

“I’m sorry,” she began. “I shouldn’t have -”

“All?”

She hesitated, caught off-guard by his rare engagement with her personal life. “All but one,” she clarified. “My brother, but he’s been unconscious since we arrived, without any indication of higher brain function, so…”

“You’re alone.”  
  
“Yes.”

“I sympathize.”

Something cold and hard settled in Ryder’s gut, and she rolled her lips between her teeth gently.

“Kett?”

“Yes. You?”

“Same. And Scourge, and disease.”

They fell into silence, then, watching the bouts as they each processed the new information they’d been given about one another. Ryder could only imagine what it was like for an Angara, whose families were their entire social structure, their support, their  _world_. To be alone in a society that prized such connections was to be alienated and adrift. It explained a lot - and Ryder was grateful for the rare insight into the commander.

“Hey,” she said absently, “would you judge me if I grabbed a bottle of something strong to bring to our meeting?”

“Yes.”

She smirked. “But would you want a glass?”

He rolled up and off of the wall, headed for the door. “We have  _business_ , Pathfinder.” But after a moment, he added, “Bring it anyway.”

Ryder followed him with a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. This called for the good stuff.


	3. Nursemaid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **_Anonymous asked:_ ** _What about an evfra/ryder sickfic? The one who gets cared for is up to you haha_

“Urgh.”

Evfra turned as the human on his sofa stirred, the sound coming from her mouth unsurprising considering the circumstances.

“Pathfinder,” he called dryly. “You live.”

She frowned, but made no motion to sit up. “Where am I?”

“You are currently in the Resistance Headquarters, Pathfinder.” The voice of her AI hummed out of her communicator, a courtesy Evfra assumed was for his sake. “The medicine you received rendered you unconscious for the past two hours.”

“Medicine.” She squinted at the ceiling for a moment, and the Angara watched as the memory hit her. “Oh f- the  _fruit._ ”

He turned back to his work, scrolling through the latest intel on Havarl. “Your doctor called. Said that you should sleep it off. She didn’t sound pleased.” Ryder grumbled something unintelligible to his translator in response. “Maarva fruit is grown here, for our race. What possessed you to do something so idiotic as to eat it?”

“It was offered to me,” she mumbled. “I didn’t want to seem rude. Bad diplomacy.”

Evfra snorted. “It’s worse ‘diplomacy’ for the Angara if the human pathfinder  _dies on our homeworld._ ”

“Yeah, that’s fair.” After a moment, she continued. “Why am I  _here_ , though? Why you?”

It was the same question Evfra had been asking himself since she’d been deposited in his office.

“Our healers are busy,” he informed her, “and you’re not sick, just stupid.” A message beeped on his screen. “Your abilities make you too dangerous to be left with anyone unarmed, and here I can continue to work,  _if you cooperate._ Also, Jaal would tear me apart if I let anything happen to you. Satisfied?”

“Roger.”  
  
His translator had since learned that the name was also a call sign, a way to say ‘understood,’ and no sooner had he returned his full attention to the message than his peripheral vision caught Ryder attempting to adjust position and consequently sliding half onto the floor.

Cursing, Evfra crossed the room and dropped his screen on the table, freeing both hands to pull her legs back onto the cushions. “For my sake and yours,  _stay still,_ ” he commanded, squatting by her side. “If you fall onto the floor again, I’ll leave you there and take my chances with Jaal.”

She smiled drowsily, and before he could react, she reached for him. Her fingers, soft and pliable and ungloved, found the edge of his largest scar and traced it down the length of his face. He stiffened; she had caught him off-guard, even in her weakened state.

“How did you get these,” she murmured, eyes following the path of her fingertips.

Evfra rumbled a low discomfort in his throat. He wasn’t ashamed of his scars – no freedom fighter should be – but the stealth of her movement and the warmth of her touch was unsettling in a way he couldn’t quite place.

“Is touching another race’s face and asking them personal questions part of your ‘diplomacy,‘” he snapped, and Ryder’s datapad beeped to life behind him.

“Pathfinder,” it called. “Until the effects of the foreign substance have left your system, your cognitive and motor capacities may be diminished. Please exercise caution.”

If he didn’t know better, Evfra would have thought that the thing was subtly pleading with her to shut up.

“Listen to your AI,” he said. “Talk to it instead of me.”

She ignored him. “How long, SAM?”

“Given the amount, my estimate places your complete recovery between three to four hours.”

Meaning, Evfra realized as Ryder let out a frustrated sigh, that he would be stuck with a lethal fighter with little control of her mouth or limbs until then. With a frown, he picked up his screen and moved to the other end of the sofa.

“Move,” he issued, and Ryder obligingly drew back her feet enough for him to sit. If he was going to get any work done, he would have to have her within arm’s reach in case she decided to move again.

A few minutes of blessed silence passed, and he managed to get through three more pieces of correspondence uninterrupted before Ryder opened her mouth again.

“Hey, Evfra?”

“What,” he answered, not looking up.

“Do you like rough sex?”

He started, and the screen he’d been holding dropped into his lap.

“ _What?_ ”

“Like choking,” she explained casually, “or biting, probably flat-out sparring -”  
  
“No,  _why are you asking me this?_ ”  
  
“I don’t know, you just seem the type.”

He groaned, leaning forward and pressing his face into his hands.

“Go back to the scar question,” he muttered. “I prefer that.”

He felt her feet press against his thigh as she shifted, and he instinctively reached out the closest arm to steady her against the cushions’ edge.

“Was it Kett?”

“No,” he answered. “Roekaar.” He draped his arms over his knees, staring absently at the far wall as the memory resurfaced. “It was just after Akksul had struck off, and as soon as he had the numbers, he wanted to make a show of power. Rigged a Resistance supply drop with explosives. Jaal and I were scouts at the time, assigned to the pickup. By the time I saw the fuse, it was too late.” Sympathetic burns heated the old injury, though he made no show of pain. “Managed to pull him out of the way, but caught a chunk of shrapnel to the face. Even though we’re both soldiers and I kept my eye, Jaal always blamed himself.”

“Because you saved him,” Ryder said, and Evfra inclined his head.

“Yes.”

He groaned inwardly as he felt the cushions lift beside him and he knew she was trying to sit up. “I thought I told you to sit  _still._ ”

“Want to see mine,” she offered as she reached for the hem of her shirt.

“No.”  
  
But it was too late – the shirt was off, and he was greeted with a wide expanse of bare midsection. The colorful language he’d been about to loose in her direction disappeared when he saw what she’d intended to display. What looked like regular, even hatchmarks of raised skin covered the entire right side of her torso from her waist upwards. It disappeared under the fabric of the undergarment she wore across her chest, and was gone where it ended.

“Emergency mesh,” she said. “From when I took a hit for Jaal on Eos and the impact knocked me off a cliff. Whole side of my chest basically collapsed. I ran on adrenaline and SAM’s help until we got back to transport and they could slap this on me.”

As she spoke, his gaze traveled over the damaged skin. Humans were building a reputation for resilience; the damage must have been severe. And from the way Jaal spoke of his admiration for the Pathfinder, Evfra could only imagine his reaction to knowing the extent of her sacrifice.

“I assume Jaal badgered you into recovery,” he said, and Ryder shrugged.

“He doesn’t know how bad it was,” she said. “And he hasn’t seen this. It might heal up, it might not. If it doesn’t, I’ll tell him if he asks. He… takes everything pretty hard, as you probably know.”

Evfra murmured his assent, intrigued by the implication of her words. That Jaal hadn’t seen her undressed meant that he hadn’t yet tried to bed the human. His own intel was never wrong, but something was clearly hindering his comrade’s advances.  _Interesting._

“Why did you ask?” He turned to face her, draping one arm over the back of the sofa. “You’re fighting a war. You’ve seen worse.”

She stretched, and the way her musculature moved beneath her undergarments caught his eye. “A thought I had once. I wondered if someone could feel them when they kissed you.”

_No_ _filter_ , he tried to remind himself as instinct kicked words into his mouth.

“Irrelevant. And what does that imply about yours, when someone puts their mouth on your -”  
  
He cut himself off, cursing under his breath. No, he was stopping that there. He could only hope that the Pathfinder was too out of it to notice the innuendo. It had been such a long time - his flirting was clumsy, if this could be called that. Not that he’d ever really been good at it.

“Put your shirt back on,” he told her.   
  
“No. I’m uncomfortable and I’m warm.”  
  
“This is  _my_  office.”  
  
“And I’m the human Pathfinder, so I have diplomatic immunity.”

He frowned, trying to make sense of that last part. “I - am I supposed to argue with nonsense?”

She snickered and leaned back against the armrest, leaning her head against the back of the sofa to smile at him. “That’s my favorite part of debriefing with you, the arguing.”  
  
“You’re bizarre.”

Her smile only widened, and Evfra set his jaw against how disarming it was.

“Might be hard to believe, but I genuinely like you.” She dug her toes under his thigh, settling her feet as her eyes began to close. “We should spend time together when we’re not fighting for our lives.”

He snorted, but said nothing in response. When her breathing evened and he was confident that she was asleep, he reached for his screen but remained in place beside her.

He wondered if all humans were this ridiculous.


	4. Burn ointment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **  
> _Anonymous asked:_  
>  **  
>  _“You look like shit” femryder/evfra?_

“You’re late, for once.”

Ryder turned to greet Evfra with a smile as he walked in, uncharacteristically tardy to a meeting in his own office. Despite having spent the entire time crafting meticulous ribbing appropriate for their level of non-intimacy, all the wind left her sails as she saw the state he was in. “Holy hell, Evfra, you look like  _shit,_ ” she managed, uncrossing her arms. “Language, I’m sorry –”

He waved her off as he leaned against his desk, grimacing. “No,” he said. “It feels accurate.”

She could get a better look at him now, clearly fresh out of medbay from the characteristic smell of antiseptic and fresh bandages. One arm was fully wrapped up to the elbow, the same leg supported with an arched splint, and what looked like a burn streaked across the side of one head and into the muscular appendages his kind possessed.

“What happened?”

“A supply drop was…  _compromised_ ,” he explained. “An ambush.”

Ryder paled. These were getting more frequent. “Any casualties?”

“No. The supplies were recovered, but – ” He shifted, the bandages creaking in protest. “Not easily.”

The change in his posture brought a grimace to his face, and SAM translated the bioelectric signal via the algorithm Ryder had been developing with the Moshae. Pain, it registered, and frustration. Evfra reached for a jar of burn ointment on his desk, and Ryder could see that opening it, much less applying, would be difficult with an injured arm.

“Here,” she offered, taking it from him and popping the lid. “Let me.”

Evfra eyed her warily, but stayed put as she pulled a small amount of the gel onto her fingertips and set about smoothing it over his affected skin in gentle, even strokes.

His stare was unsettling, and Ryder had more than one reason to squirm.

“Before we debrief on the Voeld outpost,” she began, “I wanted to apologize.”

“For?”

She raised an eyebrow. “The way-too-forward and apparently  _very_ inappropriate flirting I accidentally threw at you? I don’t think you could’ve forgotten that anytime soon.”

He snorted, and Ryder felt his warm breath on her hand. “The Moshae explained your… training,” he said. “You still have a lot to learn.”

“Yeah,” she agreed, remembering the mortification she’d felt as she learned just how poorly she’d interpreted that wavelength. “You’re telling me.”

She made room between them for a moment as he cocked his hips to shift weight off of his injured leg, his posture relaxing somewhat. “I imagine Jaal wasn’t too pleased,” he mused aloud, and it took all Ryder had to keep from laughing and disturbing the rhythm in her hands.

“He seemed entertained, actually – even recommended you as a good choice for a lover. Nothing but praise.”

Evfra muttered something under his breath, and Ryder bit her tongue. Her biotic algorithms must have been translating a little too well, as it didn’t take long for the Angaran commander to notice.

“If you want to ask something, ask it,” he told her flatly. “I won’t answer if I don’t want to.”

 _Fuck it._ She was nosy, like any good Pathfinder, and he’d already called her out.

“You and Jaal,” she asked. “Were you romantically involved?”

He was thoughtful for a moment, gaze turning from her as he seemed to consider his answer. “Briefly,” he said, letting out a long exhale. “Years ago, when I first took command. We were both young, and -”

“Passionate,” Ryder finished for him. “Close quarters, high stakes. It happens a lot in our ranks, too.” She pulled more of the salve onto her hand and moved on to the next section of burns. “They’re the only other people who understand. The risks, what you go through -”

“And what you fight for.”

“Exactly.”

He made a noise in his throat, turning his head a bit to accommodate her. “It was never serious, if that’s what you’re worried about,” he said. “Our families never met.”

It was with a sharp pinch to the gut that Ryder remembered - and the expression on Jaal’s face when he’d told her - that Evfra had lost his entire family to the Kett. The Angara measured their happiness with the number of close relatives; to be alone must be devastating.

No wonder he threw himself into leadership, she thought as her pink hands traced the blue of his skin.

“Not worried, just trying to get to know you both better.”

He didn’t respond, staring at the far wall of Resistance command and allowing her to move to the last (and least blistered) area unimpeded. She was firmer in her touch here, gliding along the natural texture and form of his physiology. Her patterns didn’t escape his notice.

“Your hands aren’t unskilled.” A compliment, considering the speaker. “Jaal taught you?”

“No, the medical staff here on Aya.” She didn’t meet his eyes. “I don’t touch Jaal outside of what’s necessary in a fight. Too… complicated. Confusing.”

They resumed their silence, and she felt him turn away for a moment before speaking again.

“Shoulders,” he said. “They are important to the Angara, to Jaal. Start there.”

“Evfra?”

“You’re tending my injuries, I’m giving you advice.” Irritation edged his voice, though his bioelectricity betrayed the self-conscious tinge. “I don’t know how humans bond, but this is how it works with Angara. Consider it a supplement to your lessons with the Moshae.”

At the word ‘bond,’ Ryder bit back a smile and replaced the jar lid. “I’m telling Jaal that we finished each other’s sentences today. He’ll be overjoyed.”

“Don’t,” Evfra muttered. “I’ll never hear the end of it. You’re already all he talks about.”

“Good. Then you’ll know how I feel.” Crossing her arms, she gave him back a few inches of space. “Sometimes he talks you up so much it makes me wonder if I picked the wrong Angara.”

“You’re flirting again,” he warned, and Ryder grinned.

“On purpose this time. What a concept.”

With a huff, he turned to face his desk and pulled up the map she’d brought. “We have  _business_ , Pathfinder.”

But Ryder had caught his smirk clear as day, and made sure to pointedly wipe her oily fingers on his jacket as she reached for her datapad.


End file.
